As a child staring in to the black satin
of the starlit night,
dreams of future sunlit days,
wandered in their mind.
Would there be a time in reality
the screaming would stop,
the abuse of the soul would end
in a truce of the heart.
Maybe they grew too fast not realizing
childhood carefree time,
maybe it was just the opposite in fact,
too much playing make believe.
Now the gamble has been lost on
what should have been,
where are the green fields of yesteryear
to relieve their sorrow?
The rose scented backyards to frolic in
while wasting time,
where are the sunlit days of youth
that seemed endless?
They seem to be in their mind's eye
to be relived occasionally,
like photographs to be cherished on rainy days
to pass moments of old age.
Now they have to determine the difference
between reality and imaginary.
so they can survive the world's cold touch,
without being bitter in the soul. . .
Timothy Michael DiVito c1994
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